


Dynasty

by journeycat



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Ancestor-Era, Family, Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-08
Updated: 2011-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-21 03:46:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/journeycat/pseuds/journeycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief look into the rulers of Tortall, each more quixotic than the last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dynasty

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Malorie's Peak Prompts Week! Prompt #29: Dominion

_This is my dominion, and I will expand it. I am Jasson, once Prince, now King, and this is my land._

How many times had he watched his father lose battles? How many times had he listened in on his meetings and longed to hit him—the tactics he was suggesting, the commanders he appointed...they were all so useless. And Jasson had to hold his tongue, because rule one of being heir was to never correct his father in public. And alone—well, the king was too far into his cups to hear him. He did not see how his empire was falling down around his ears, with the empty coffers and shrinking borders.

But that would change, because he was King Jasson now, and everyone listened to him, and he would show them what it was to face the might of the Tortallan army.

\--

 _This is my dominion, and I will protect it. I am Roald, once Prince, now King, and this is my land._

Death was a daily part of his life, growing up.

His father would take him on campaigns since he was old enough to walk. Roald saw blood and gore, men in pain and men weeping and men screaming for their missing limbs or their mothers, depending on how close to death they were. He killed his first man when he was seven—it was a mercy stroke, for he could barely hold in his intestines, but it was a killing.

This was not what Tortall needs, he knew, anguished. When would this murder stop? When would these wars end?

And when the king died, well—the people mourned him, but Roald thought he saw the tiniest spark of relief in their faces.

\--

 _This is my dominion, and I will heal it. I am Jonathan, once Prince, now King, and this is my land._

The throne he ascended was drenched in blood and the beginning of his reign marked by ill omen. He was plagued by insecurities and troubles. The power he used to save his land also leeched it of too much, too fast. His father taught him too much of things that didn't matter and too little of the things that did, like ruling—he was not prepared for this. How could he do right by anyone?

It didn't matter; he would.

Jonathan had his queen at his right hand and his champion at his left, and he knew he was invincible. He would never let his people down.

\--

 _This is my dominion, and I will improve it. I am Roald, once Prince, now King, and this is my land._

He was not the fiercest king Tortall ever had; neither was he gentlest nor strongest. But many traits can make a king, and he thought a great king should also be wise.

His strength lay in the laws he passed. They impressed his conservatives and they made his wife smile at him with pride. He had seen from his father what not to do in politics, and that was what allowed him to balance so well between opposing factions. Wisdom, he thought, was something many rulers lacked. It was not always their fault.

There were many kinds of kings. Roald only hoped he would be one who would be remembered.

\--

 _This is my dominion, and I will rule it. I am Lianokami, once Princess, now Queen, and this is my land._

She is the first of the Conte queens, but she will not be the last. An age has broken and a new one has dawned, and she feels every inch a queen as the crown is lowered on her head. There is a sword at her hip and words at her lips, but for the moment she keeps both still. She is content to look out at the people at her coronation, to savor their apprehension and their hope.

One day she will expand their borders again, reach into Scanra and pluck its heart—but she will not bleed her people dry. One day she will reach out to conservatives and progressives alike—but she will not let her nation stagnate, because _she_ is the ruler, not politics.

Liano is a queen from many kings, and she will show them _all_ what she can do.


End file.
